


visions are seldom all they seem

by faerieflame



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sleeping Beauty Fusion, Fae & Fairies, Fluff, M/M, True Love's Kiss, no crests.. just fae bloodlines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-26 10:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerieflame/pseuds/faerieflame
Summary: It would be foolish of House Bergliez to refuse this proposal. They have no fae blood of their own, and this marriage could add some to their name.Count Bergliez accepts the proposal.House Hevring ordered the servants to invite everyone in Fódlan to celebrate the birth of their child, but they forgot oneveryimportant person. She's not very pleased about it.





	1. party gone wrong

**Author's Note:**

> warning!!!!!! this has spoilers for the final boss of Blue Lions!!!!!!!!! do not read if you don't want to be spoiled for that!!!!!
> 
> this chapter is mostly just the prologue of the movie, but yknow. i had a lot of fun churning it out. the script for sleeping beauty is a lot easier to find than i thought it would. this is a combo of the disney movie & some more indulgent proper fae lore, but definitely not grim or sad. 
> 
> just wanted this to be fun, yknow

It is no secret that House Hevring and House Bergliez have little to no love for one another, but it is also no secret that they are desperately jealous of one another’s fortune and power, respectively. Madame Hevring, with a swollen belly full of child, hums as her husband finishes writing the letter. “I despise having to do this,” he groans. 

“If you want inside information on the Bergliez estate,” she says delicately. “Then you must simply deal with it, darling.”

“I care so very  _ little  _ for this feud,” he huffs, pressing the Hevring seal onto the letter and handing it off to the maid. “It is unnecessary and useless.”

“And yet, here we are, preparing to marry off our unborn child to the second son of House Bergliez.”

“Here we are,” he repeats.

Word lets out that Madame Hevring’s baby is going to be born soon and all of Fódlan is ready. It is not a common occurrence for a baby with the blood of the fae to be born, and House Hevring has had fae blood coursing through their veins since the very beginning of Fódlan’s history. Madame Hevring’s green hair and pointed teeth are only some of the more obvious traits pointing at her heritage. 

Their fae blood may be thinning out, but it matters not. 

It would be foolish of House Bergliez to refuse this proposal. They have no fae blood of their own, and this marriage could add some to their name. 

Count Bergliez accepts the proposal and it is decided. 

One week after the child is born, the two children are to be betrothed.

“Invite everyone on the continent,” Madame Hevring says casually. “To the betrothal party, I mean.”

“E-Everyone, Countess?” The maids exchange looks.

She waves a tired hand, the other supporting her belly. “Of course. Send one to all the noble houses, and do be  _ sure  _ you invite all the fae. You know how they get.”

Madame Hevring hums, her eyes feeling oh-so heavy. Her baby — precious little Linhardt — has been so quiet, so well-behaved ever since the Madame went into labor. It was almost as if the child didn’t want to cause a fuss — didn’t even struggle as the midwives tugged the baby out of the countess. 

Right next to Linhardt’s cradle is  _ Caspar von Bergliez’s  _ cradle. They’re engaged, now. To be married once both are eighteen. Based on disposition alone, it seems likely that Caspar will pick up the blade. They are both young, with Caspar only a few months older, but the difference in attitude is obvious enough. Linhardt is quiet and already seems to be a rather frail baby, whereas Caspar has not stopped squirming and fidgeting ever since Madame Bergliez set him down.

The countess presses a hand to her cheek. Oh, she recalls when she got married to her husband. They had been  _ children,  _ but they married anyway because it was expected of them. No, she refuses that fate for dear Linhardt. No child of hers will be relegated to such a life before the age of eighteen, she forbids it.

Duke Fraldarius of the Kingdom and his own wife — swollen with a baby — and their young son place a gift on the ever-growing mountain of presents before a hush fills the main hall. Three beings, each with vibrant green hair, much brighter than the Madame’s own,  _ flutter  _ down the hall. 

_ Fae. _

The one in the lead radiates an ancient, benevolent power. Their faded green hair is loose, trailing behind them and floating  _ just  _ above the floor. Their wings give them the extra height to avoid the mess of their hair actually dragging against the carpet. To the main fae’s right is a robust male fae, with short, green locks and a spear at his side. To the main fae’s left is a quaint female fae, with bright green hair and a small staff gripped in her hand.

The Madame would be remiss to not bow before the bearer of her bloodline. “Cethleann,” she breathes. The short fae smiles at her, and the Madame feels faint —  _ those  _ are what fae fangs look like. The Madame drags her tongue against her own sharp teeth and feels a smile tug at her lips. 

“We come bearing blessings,” the ancient fae — Sothis, the Madame recalls — says. “One from each; no more, no less.” They pull out their sword from their scabbard and rest the hilt on Linhardt’s clasped hands. “May Linhardt von Hevring bear the Gift of Sage, to wield magic wisely and safely.”

The sword glows blue and the light transfers to Linhardt’s forehead. Linhardt’s eyes open, the blue orbs staring at the fae. 

The male fae, Cichol, steps forward. He presses the tip of his spear to Linhardt’s forehead. “May Linhardt von Hevring bear the Gift of Mind, to recall all that has been seen before.”

Cethleann steps forward as well, pressing her staff onto Linhardt’s heart. “May Linhardt von Hevring—”

“Not so fast!”

Behind the three great fae, a cloud of red bursts and it is the Hegemon, the Flame Emperor —  _ Edelgard  _ that steps out. Her blackened eyes stare at the three fae before her. “Ah, my brethren…”

Cichol raises his staff. “Do not curse us like that, Hegemon.”

The Flame Emperor presses a hand to her mouth and laughs. “Oh,  _ Cichol.  _ You do know I rather dislike that name.”

Cichol sneers. “That is because—”

“It does not matter,” The Hegemon interrupts. “I believe that everyone on the continent was invited, yes?”

Madame Hevring swallows when all of her guests turn to stare at her. “Yes,” she says bravely. “I told the maids to invite everyone,  _ including  _ all of the fae. I know how you all can get.”

The Hegemon stares at her for a moment and sighs. “I hate when humans tell the truth,” she admits. “It makes me feel rather bad to do what I’m about to do.”

“What—”

The Hegemon walks up, pushing Cethleann aside and pressing her own weapon —  _ Aymr,  _ the Madame’s brain supplies — against Linhardt’s chest, right where Cethleann had her staff. “I have a  _ blessing _ of my own,” the Hegemon singsongs. The Madame tries to push the Hegemon away, but it’s too late. “Yes, the little heir will grow up intelligent and oh-so mindful. However, when the sun sets on Linhardt von Hevring’s eighteenth birthday, this little fool will touch the needle on a spinning wheel. When it draws blood, the fool will die.”

Aymr glows an ugly,  _ blood  _ colored red and the light flows into Linhardt’s chest.

Madame Hevring feels  _ faint. _

The Hegemon clasps her hands. The raven on her shoulder nuzzles her cheek. “Well, I’ve said my piece.”

With that, the Hegemon erupts into another cloud of red, and all the Madame can see is black.

“Linhardt will die?” Madame Hevring whispers, her eyes going wide.

Her husband rushes towards her, but she cannot even look at him.

“No. Cethleann still has her gift to give,” Sothis says, almost  _ too  _ serenely. It would look that way if their pupils hadn’t gone thin and serpentine, the sword at their hip glowing almost too brightly for the Madame to stare at it.

Cethleann steps forward, her ethereal —  _ familiar — _ form stepping towards the cradle again. The tip of her staff points towards Linhardt’s heart again, and Cethleann offers the Madame a smile. 

“Can you undo the curse?” her husband asks, his blue eyes wide with desperation.

“No,” Cethleann admits. Cichol puts a hand on her shoulder.

“She can help, though. Do what you must,” Cichol murmurs.

Cethleann takes a deep breath and begins to hum. “Sweet descendant of mine, if through this wicked witch’s trick a spindle should your finger prick, a ray of hope there still may be in this, the gift I give thee. Not in death but just in sleep the fateful prophecy you'll keep, and from this slumber you shall wake when true love's kiss the spell shall break.”

Sothis nods wistfully. “For true love’s kiss shall conquer all.”

The three fae float away the way they came.

Madame Hevring watches as her husband does not relax. “Burn all of the spinning wheels in the territory,” he says quietly.

Then, louder: “Burn all of the spinning wheels in the territory!”

“Oh, that cursed monster!” Cichol — no, no, Seteth — hisses, careful not to speak Edelgard’s assortment of names. 

“Seteth,” Sothis — or rather, Byleth — says. “Come have a cup of tea, we’ve done our part.”

Cethleann — Flayn, of course — sighs. “A bonfire won’t stop that creature, no matter how many spindles the Count decides to burn.”

Seteth scoffs. “What would stop that monster? Not even Byleth could—”

“We could always try and reason with her,” Byleth says. Seteth shuts his eyes and sighs deeply.

_ “Reason?” _

“With  _ that  _ creature?” Flayn waves her hands. “Byleth, please, even you must admit that she’s far too gone for us to even attempt at reasoning with her. I know you two have… history… but what’s done is done. She is beyond help.”

“There is nothing we can do to help little Linhardt?” Byleth asks, defeated. Despite their rather flat face, they feel so strongly and brightly. 

“That monster has ears everywhere,” Seteth grumbles. “What won’t she see coming?”

Byleth pauses. “No… That’s not true. She doesn’t understand love or kindness. Not anymore.”

Flayn jumps up excitedly. “That’s it!”

It is with heavy hearts that the count and countess of House Hevring watch their baby be carried away by three fae under the guise of humans. No spindles, no parents, and no Hegemon.


	2. once upon a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost eighteen years later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gay rights

Fódlan’s Fangs still have a dreary grayness that hangs over them. They have for a very long time now. Even the sea that hugs the shore seems darker than the sea near the Kingdom and Alliance, or even the rest of the Empire. Hubert presses his beak against the Hegemon and she sighs.

Kronya, one of her minions ever since she became the Hegemon, rubs her fingers together. She reminds the Hegemon of a rat. A little too smart, but much too disgusting to make use of it.

“Still no sign of him, Flame Emperor!” Kronya reports. 

“It’s incredible, eighteen years and not a trace of him,” she sighs, reclining onto her throne. “He couldn’t have vanished into thin air. Are you sure you searched everywhere?”

Solon, one of her other lackeys, nods. “We’ve searched throughout Fódlan, your Imperial Majesty. The Empire, the Kingdom, the Alliance…”

“What of the forests, the mountains,” the Hegemon asks. Her claws drag against the floor, and she lifts her arm to point one at Solon’s blackened eye. 

Kronya nervously pushes the Hegemon’s claw away. “We’ve checked every cradle in all of Fódlan, your Imperial Majesty!”

The Hegemon feels so, _ so _tired. “Every… cradle.”

Solon nods. “Yes, every single one!”

Hubert lets out an angry _ caw _and nearly flies, beak first, into Solon’s eye. She stops him.

“Cradle,” she growls. Her hand finds its way to pet Hubert’s head. “Do you hear that, Hubie? A _ cradle. _ Eighteen years, and they’ve been searching for a baby!” She breaks into mad laughter, unable to contain the way her body flares up with heat and _ pure rage. _

Kronya and Solon both exchange looks, nervously joining the Hegemon in her laughter.

The Hegemon stops laughing. “Fools! Idiots! Imbeciles!” She shouts, aiming her claws at the two minions. They scramble away before they make contact, and she sighs. “Oh, they're hopeless. A disgrace,” she hums, petting Hubert once more. “Hubie, you are my last hope. Circle far and wide, search for a fae-ling of eighteen with hair of forest green and eyes blue as the deep blue sea. Go, and do not fail me.”

Lin Eisner has known his family was odd ever since he was enrolled in the small school in his tiny village. The other children had a _ mama, _ a _ papa, _ and maybe a few siblings. But not Lin. No, Lin had _ Byleth, Seteth, _ and _ Flayn. _Every first day of the moon, they painted theirs and Lin’s hair a navy blue and filed down his sharper teeth. 

“Other kids don’t have pointy teeth like us,” Flayn had explained to him, once. She had just finished filing his teeth, leaving his mouth rather sore. “I know this feels rather uncomfortable, but please. We are different, you know this, but we cannot act like it.”

Lin never thought to argue. As long as he could keep reading, writing, and researching, he was fine. He knew he was a fae-ling, and he knew his three caretakers were fae-lings, too. It’s rather hard to hide the pointy ears, the sharp teeth, and well… The green hair they paint over every thirty days. He understands, though: it’s dangerous for the common folk to learn there were fae-lings among them.

With great leisure, he enters his home.

Seteth and Byleth are whispering to each other and Flayn turns her head with a look of great panic on her face. “Lin!” Flayn shouts. “Hello! How are you!?”

“...Fine,” Lin says, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Byleth answers, their eyes staring holes into him. “We need you to—”

Lin grimaces. “Oh no, I am suddenly overcome with exhaustion.”

“Then go nap outside,” Seteth suggests. Their cottage is on the outskirts of a small village in Hevring territory, and it’s always quite temperate thanks to its proximity to the sea. Perfect weather for a nap, in Lin’s professional opinion. Although, in his professional opinion, any weather is optimal nap time weather. Sleep is something that’s always come easily to Lin, and he certainly doesn’t mind the dreams.

_ “Fine,” _ Lin sighs, shutting the door and moving deeper into the forest, away from prying eyes in the village but also close enough in case something bad happens. He finds a comfortable tree, sets down his nap pillow, and shuts his eyes. The sun feels so warm on his skin, and the wind is hitting his face _ just so _that it all feels wonderful.

As sleep begins to settle in, Lin allows his thoughts to wander. He’d been reading another book on fae healing magic. Flayn helps him learn as much as he can, which is nice. Flayn seems to have a very good grasp on healing in particular, much like Lin himself. Hm… perhaps…

His thoughts trail off into thinking about the boy from his dreams, like they often do. Ever since he was small, he’s been shadowed by another person that’s always the same age as he is. They never talk to each other in Lin’s dreams. Lin is always napping underneath a tree, barely aware of his surroundings except for a boy standing in a sunny field. The boy is always humming a song, murmuring lyrics he can barely hear. As Lin got older, so did the boy, until he became a man and Lin feels _ smitten _over what surely must be a figment of his imagination.

He’s just about dozed off when he hears frantic footsteps running towards him, leaves crunching beneath what must be heavy boots. Blearily, Lin opens his eyes to stare at — a stranger.

The stranger has blue hair, though brighter than Lin’s and clearly natural. Perhaps _ aqua _ would be more accurate. His eyes are the very same color, striking and _ vibrant. _ His arms are rather thick, and he looks like he could carry Lin in his arms. This stranger, is in fact no stranger at all, because Lin has _ seen _him before.

In his dreams.

Lin feels his lips part into an _ o _shape and he can’t stop himself from letting his eyes wander, trying to memorize everything he can about this handsome stranger. He’s broad, with a thick chestplate on and an axe slung on his back, and he has a wound in his left leg.

_ He has a wound in his left leg! _

“What happened,” is what Lin says first, and it comes out a _ lot _flatter and bored than he had hoped. Curse his default state. He amends it with, “I’m Lin, by the way.”

“Caspar,” the stranger chokes out loudly, his vibrant eyes not leaving Lin’s now they’ve made eye contact again. “I was, uh. Bandits. Attacking. I stopped them.”

“At what cost,” Lin murmurs. Then louder: “I know healing magic, if you’d let me.”

Caspar shakes his head like he’s trying to wake himself up — a feeling Lin understands very well. “I. Would be flattered — honored? Thanks.”

Lin snorts. “For a brave warrior, you certainly have a way with words. Why were you running with a wounded leg? Surely that can’t feel very good, even for a _ hero _like yourself.”

Caspar’s cheeks flush pink and Lin feels _ very _interested in figuring out how to make that happen more. 

“Town was nearby, thought I’d make it without much of a fuss.” Caspar responds.

“So you _ ran?” _Lin clicks his tongue, displeased. “All you warriors are the same — fighting with no care or caution in the world. How troublesome,” Lin says, pressing his hand against the wound. Brilliant white light erupts from the palms of his hands, and the glow enters the wound, slowly regenerating the skin until the wound is gone. All that’s left is a faint scar.

“Wow!” Caspar exclaims, his eyes full of excitement. “I’ve never seen healing magic like that before!”

“Magic comes rather easily to me,” Lin offers. Caspar grins, standing up and bowing rather dramatically.

“Since you saved my life, would you do me the honor of showing me around town?”

Lin hesitates — he _ really _ wanted to nap, like his caretakers suggested, but… Caspar is interesting. It’s rare for Lin to find things interesting anymore. “So I heal you _ and _ you want me to play tour guide?” Lin sighs, equally dramatic. His lips quirk into a genuine smile, though. “Sure.”

“I’ve never baked a cake before!” Flayn says excitedly. Her fingers are giving off little green flares of light.

“No fae magic,” Byleth reminds her. “Lin’s birthday is tomorrow, we really must be most careful. Surely… _ she… _has been growing antsy trying to find him.” Seteth nods absentmindedly, turning the pages in the cookbook. Byleth sighs. “I’m going fishing to try and catch dinner. Seteth, do keep dear Flayn in check.”

They walk out, fishing pole in one hand and bait in the other. 

“Of course,” Seteth hums. He gives Flayn the cookbook, now that he’d found the page with the cake recipe. He continues his own work — hammering out a new staff out of mythril for Lin using an enchanted tool set. It looks similar to Flayn’s Caduceus Staff so far, but he wants to get some of the finer details. Perhaps he’d prefer something simple...

Flayn sings as she puts the ingredients in the bowl, mixing a bit messily and with great vigor. “It’s a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake!” She laughs, satisfied with the batter and shoving it into three different cake pans. It’s a tiered cake: three layers for three gifts.

“Green or blue?” Seteth murmurs to himself, finishing up the edge of the staff. He decided to make the tip of the staff look like a large poppy flower — they look lovely and represent restful sleep. Lin _ loves _to sleep, and Seteth knows what will await him tomorrow. There is no changing fate, no matter what Byleth may believe. 

He decides on blue, thinking the green would clash with his hair color — his _ true _hair color — once he’s free from hiding who he is. 

Seteth loses himself in his forging. Enough so that he does not notice Flayn pull the pans out of the oven. She sets all three on the counter and with a look over her shoulder, raises her hands. Her left hand glows green as she uses her magic to spread frosting over the bottom tier and uses the other hand to place the second tier. Rinse and repeat until all three tiers are complete; Flayn grins.

“Brother, look!” She says, picking the cake up and twirling on her tippy-toes. 

And then she trips. Seteth’s head snaps upward as Flayn gasps. 

“Flayn, child, _ no!” _Seteth shouts, watching as the cake topples over. In panic, Seteth lets out a blast of his magic, light grabbing hold of the flying cake and returning it to the counter, no mess in sight. He lets out an exhale, and turns to Flayn sharply.

_ “Daughter,” _ Seteth hisses, like it’s a secret. And it _ is _ a secret, one that’s been kept for almost eighteen years now. Long past are the names _ Cichol _ and _ Cethleann; _ the names the rest of Fódlan call them. Fae must preserve their true names, after all. Seteth sighs, ruffling his daughter’s — no, no: _ sister’s _— hair. “Perhaps next time, leave the kitchen work to Byleth.”

While Flayn apologizes profusely, a raven notes the bright light that erupted from the window and flies closer.

A few hours pass, and Lin is circling the marketplace with Caspar following close behind. “Y-You know,” Caspar rubs the back of his neck like he’s _ nervous _or something. Lin pauses in his stride. “I think I’ve dreamed about you before.”

Lin raises an eyebrow. 

“I mean! I meant — I…” Caspar stammers. Then, he goes slack. “I meant what I said. I’ve been dreaming about you my whole life! You’ve always had long hair, right?”

“I have,” Lin says. “My caretakers think I look better with it long. I’m too lazy to bother getting it cut, so…” Lin trails off. He can _ feel _his cheeks glowing pink. “I’ve been dreaming about you too.”

Caspar blinks silently; once, twice, a third time, before a smile breaks onto his face. It’s possibly the brightest thing Lin’s ever seen.

“So we’ve met before,” Lin continues resolutely, as Caspar keeps smiling like the sun with a pink flush on his cheeks. It makes him look even more handsome. “Once upon a dream.”

“Once,” Caspar repeats, voice giddy. “I’ve been seeing you for as long as I can remember, Lin.”

“What would you dream about?” Lin asks. It doesn’t feel like the right place to be having this conversation; behind a shop that sells Daphnel-style meat sticks, but it also feels like the perfect place to have this conversation. For the few hours Lin has known him, it feels so much like _ Caspar _he can’t help but feel like this was meant to be. 

Caspar pauses before he speaks, breaking Lin from his tangential thoughts. “Mostly it was just us in a field. Noonish, with the sun over our heads. You were always _ almost _asleep under a tree, humming some song. I would always lie next to you and fall asleep. When dream-me dozed off, real-me would always wake up.”

“Huh,” Lin says. “Mine was the same. But _ you _were the one humming some song.”

“I was always so _ frustrated _ that I never got to talk to you,” Caspar admits. His cheeks are still painted red, and it’s so adorable Lin wants to kiss them. “I always wanted to play with your hair, or touch your face, or _ talk _ to you, but I never could. Dream-me just stared at the sun and tried to sleep next to you for eighteen years. But I feel like I know you! I walked to you for so long… _ once _upon a dream.”

Bravely, Lin hums the familiar song — in his dreams, Caspar’s always humming. “And I know it’s true,” he sings. He knows his voice is horrible, but he’s never been one for caring. “That visions are seldom what they seem; but if I know you, I know what you’ll do…”

Caspar stares at Lin like he hung the stars in the sky. “You’ll love me at once, the way you did…”

“Once upon a dream.” They murmur at the same time. It feels _ electric. _

The two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. With all the courage in the world, Lin steps forward, cups Caspar’s cheeks, and says: “Tell me to stop.”

“I don’t think I want to,” Caspar whispers hoarsely.

Lin bends down and kisses Caspar. It’s not as intense or suave as Byleth’s romance novels. This one is chaste, a bit too hard and the angle is a little awkward since Caspar isn’t on his toes and his face isn’t angled just right. But that doesn’t matter, because feeling the lips of the boy who had turned into a man in Lin’s dreams for almost eighteen years is a feeling Lin wouldn’t give up, not for a century.

When Lin pulls away, he realizes the time. The sun is beginning to meet the horizon. “Oh,” Lin says faintly. He steps away from Caspar regretfully. “I… I have to go. My caretakers will be worried about me.”

“Wait!” Caspar shouts. His face is so red, Lin’s can’t be much better. “When will I see you again?”

Lin smiles. “Don’t worry. You’ll always see me, once upon a dream. Meet me back here in a week, how about that?”

With that, he walks back home.

In the morning, Lin wakes up to Flayn’s voice, singing her favorite rendition of a _ happy birthday _song. Byleth hums along, and Seteth mouths lyrics without actually singing. It’s nice, waking up to kind and loving caretakers.

He dreamed about Caspar again. This time, they danced together as they sang. Lin’s cheeks feel warm.

“Happy birthday!” Flayn finally cries, leaping forward and wrapping her arms around Lin. 

“Morning,” Lin says groggily. “And thanks.”

Lin turns his head to see his bedside table decorated with a few gifts. He sees a slice of cake, a cup of what smells like angelica tea, and a _ magic staff? _

“What.”

Byleth, Flayn, and Seteth all exchange looks. “You’re eighteen, now,” Byleth begins.

“I am.”

Seteth sighs. “Lin…”

Lin wrinkles his nose. “Am I about to get a _ talk? _If so, you’re already too late. I met someone last night. He’s—”

“Oh no!” Flayn gasps. 

“Excuse me?” Lin feels a little affronted. “Surely you already knew of my tastes and preferences? I had assumed you gathered as much, Flayn.”

“That’s not it, Lin!” Flayn fans herself. “Oh, this is horrible!”

Lin rolls his eyes. “Why is it horrible that I met someone I think I could love?”

“It’s just…” Seteth trails off. “You’re betrothed.”

Lin’s brain just… stops.

“I’m _ what.” _

“You’ve been engaged since you were born, Lin,” Byleth says gently. “In fact, Lin isn’t even your full name. Lin Eisner isn’t who you are. Your full name is Linhardt von Hevring, and you’ve been betrothed to Caspar von Bergliez since you were born.”

This is a lot to process at once, so Lin — no, _ Linhardt _ focuses on the part that has a grip on his heart. _ “Caspar?” _

“Caspar von Bergliez,” Byleth nods, solemn. “The second son. You’re the heir of Hevring territory, and your parents thought it beneficial to marry you off so you could have potential intel about the ministry of military affairs.”

Linhardt laughs, a little overwhelmed and definitely exhausted. “Oh, Byleth, don’t worry. I think — I think the man who I met last night _ was _Caspar von Bergliez.”

“Hm?”

“It’s just… Light blue hair, matching eyes, strong and a little idiotic?” Linhardt hums. “Or maybe impulsive is a better word…”

“I’ve heard that’s what he’s like, yes.”

Linhardt nods slowly. His eyelids are already closing. “Alright, then. I — I must admit, I’m not terribly interested in inheriting Hevring territory, but… But perhaps, if I have him by my side, it won’t be so bad.”

The raven flies back to Fódlan’s Fangs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the movie just has philip & aurora not exchange names when they first meet? to be fair, it's during a musical number, but c'mon! normal people introduce themselves before flirting! in her defense though, i had lin grow up around others (unlike aurora) so he's a bit better at socializing. not that he likes it, of course.
> 
> i wanted them to smorch before the Big Sleep. i might add a small reprieve before the latter half of the movie? we'll see. im shooting for three chapters, but maybe it'll be four instead. 
> 
> also? this wasnt the direction i expected but i think there might be minor byleth/edelgard. we will see.

**Author's Note:**

> they make a perfect pair for sleeping beauty i simply Had to. also, tried to avoid referring to linhardt w pronouns since i headcanon him as trans & like . hes a baby. u dont know ur baby is trans. but i also didnt wanna misgender him. thats my happy middle ground.
> 
> next 2 chapters are probably gonna be quite a bit longer, since that'll be the chunk of the actual story.


End file.
